


A Moment Apart

by AzuraDameron



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ambassador Zelda, Champion's Ballad spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Nonbinary Link, Post Ending, Selectively Mute Link, Worldbuilding, adding tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 08:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10433505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzuraDameron/pseuds/AzuraDameron
Summary: Link and Zelda embark upon their journey to rebuild Hyrule, but perhaps not in the way Zelda anticipated. After all, what's a monarch to kingdom that survived without her for a century? Perhaps then, Zelda can serve Hyrule not as its princess, but an ambassador to each race to build a better Hyrule. But it's not an effort she and her Champion can undertake alone. Thus, the Emissaries are formed, and a new era of Hyrule begins.It's a blandass summary but I don't know how to summarize "an excuse to cram all my weird headcanons on each race's culture into a plot with zelink on the side"





	1. Barren House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally a standalone fic just called "Barren House" that was in second person POV and present tense, but those didn't read very well, so I overhauled it. It's now in third person POV and past participle like god intended. I also changed Link's and Zelda's characterization because I didn't like how I did it before. This is basically a new fic. Enjoy.

_“This_ is your house?”

Zelda looked halfway between disdain, surprise, and worry as she gawked at the barren interior of Link’s Hateno home. 

[Killing the calamity doesn’t leave much time for home improvement,] Link signed. It still destabilized Zelda, seeing the reversal in Link’s verbosity. Once upon a time, Link hardly said a word to anyone but Zelda, signing to all that understood. Now he dragged the words from his throat to everyone _but_ Zelda. She could probably intuit why, but her mind still felt mired in Malice. It was easier to complain about home decoration at the moment.

“I suppose you’re right,” she mused, and noted wooden slabs on the wall. “What are those?”

Link answered by materializing each Champion’s weapon from the Slate and placing them in their mounts. 

Zelda felt a geyser of emotion roll up from her stomach and clog her throat. She was still too fragile at the sight of them. “I… see… that’s-- that’s nice,” she managed. She cleared her throat. Home decoration. Focus on that. A simple, mundane thing. “But won’t you want something there, eventually? Like a kitchen, or something of the like?”

[Yeah. I was gonna talk to Bolson about getting them moved. I used to have a lot more up, when this place was more of a safehouse, but now that I don’t need to store so many weapons, I was thinking of moving the mounts up to the second level.]

Zelda nodded. “It would be a tight fit, but I think they’d look better up in the loft. Or maybe lining the stairs?

Link scratched his chin, staring at the stairs and pondering. [Arrange them from tallest to smallest weapon, maybe? So the longer ones are at the base of the stairs, the smaller ones are at the top.]

“Oh, that’s lovely! So it would be Lightscale Trident, Boulder Breaker, Great Eagle Bow, Scimitar of the Seven, and the Daybreaker, yes?”

[Sounds about right,] Link concurred. 

Zelda stared at the weapon mounts, sizing them up, when something connected in her mind.   
“You have a chimney, but no fireplace? What kind of backwards design is that?”

Link blinked owlishly at her before slowly bringing his hands up to sign, [You know… I never actually… noticed that…] He scowled. [This house design is absurd.]

Zelda giggled at his fuming. “Well, you said this place was only a safehouse after dire journeys, you’d be forgiven for not noticing.”

He audibly huffed. He looked ready to have a few clipped words with Bolson.

Zelda doubted Link would actually, since he wasn’t known for his temper, but she steered the conversation back regardless. “Cooking in that pot outside hardly seems preferable in bad weather. We should request Bolson make the hearth big enough to do some cooking in.”

[I bet I can sweet-talk him into doing more than that. I have some ideas.]

Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

An enthused gleam entered his eyes as he signed with zeal, [Multi-tiered potholders, so I can hold smaller bowls over the fire. Hinges for shelves so I can bake things on a flat surface. Slots for rods so I can spit-roast meat. An actual oven, because baking bread in a pot sucks.]

“You bake bread?” Zelda found that a genuine surprise. During their century-ago adventures, Link’s specialty fell to meats and seafood, with a fondness for spices that overwhelmed even Zelda’s royal palette (it was a point of pride that she ate, unfazed, what had her father red-faced and coughing). 

Link nodded. [I’m a professional tasteless rock cooker. Gorons could mistake my bread for a snack. And those are my _good_ breads.]

“I don’t want to know what qualifies as bad.”

[In a word? Inedible. Not because the stuff tastes bad, but because the literal act of consuming it is way too much trouble. They’re harder than rocks. I invented rocks two, the sequel to rocks, in my very own pot. You’d be pleased with the scientific discovery.]

Zelda giggled until she was reduced to undignified snorts. She hastily tried to cover them. Link fought to keep his expression deadpan, but she could tell by the way his lips tightened he was trying not to laugh. 

“Don’t laugh! I’m just… I was surprised!” Zelda protested. “I’m not used to you being so funny!”

Link quirked an eyebrow. [What, I wasn’t funny a hundred years ago?]

“It’s not that you weren’t funny, it’s just that you weren’t… especially snarky. You laughed more often than you made people laugh. It was… cute.” Something she never would've confessed to a hundred years ago.

Link snorted somewhere between faux-derision and amusement, then moved on. [So what about a kitchen?]

Zelda considered the corner left of the fireplace. “Maybe… an L-shaped kitchen, that hugs this wall? Something with plenty of storage space. And maybe an ice cabinet, if you find any Ice Rods, I can engineer one like we had in the Castle. It’ll help preserve food.”

[That would be _wonderful._ ]

Zelda smiled. “It was quite nice. So what about a table? Would we want a round one, or a rectangular one?”

Link hummed in thought. [A rectangular one. Do you want it in the center?]

“Where else would we have it?”

[I dunno. I like having this open space. Could do for a rug, maybe a Rito one, but I don’t know if I want a table cluttering up the center of the room. There isn’t really a good wall to put it against.] Link groaned. [This place needs more windows.]

“I agree, it is a bit cave-like in here.”

[You know what a good place to eat would be?] Without waiting for an answer, Link gently clasped her wrist and lead her outside the house. He lead her up the earthen ridge that hooked around the house and gestured. [Here. Weather permitting.]

“Oh… yes, the view is spectacular,” Zelda breathed, drinking in the sight of Necluda sprawling before her, Dueling Peaks ruling the skyline. “Breakfasting out here would be a wonderful way to start the day. And taking dinner under that little wooden awning while watching the sunset would be… so romantic. But what do we do if the weather is poor? We can’t not have a table.”

[I think we can. If we have a couch. Then we can live it up like the Gerudo.]

“Oh! Those lap-tray things they have?”

Link nodded.

“That would be quite nice. Where would the couch be?”

[Right side, from the wall to where that little nook is.]

“Speaking of that nook, were you planning to use it for storage?”

Link shrugged. [Probably. Did you have other plans?]

“It’d be a lovely reading nook. Some pillows, a lantern…”

[You don’t want such a small space to be your desk, right?]

Zelda shook her head. “Heavens, no. My desk would be on the second level, ideally. Maybe near the stairs.”

[Speaking of, do you want share the bed, or should I commission a second bed?] 

That stopped Zelda in her tracks. When they were recovering at Kakariko, and spent the night at the stables, Zelda privately relished company in Link’s arms. While it didn’t ward away the nightmares, it did comfort her when she startled awake. She suspected-- hoped, anyway-- that Link felt the same way. A selfish part of her didn’t want to give that comfort up. But warring with her selfishness was her royal decorum, screaming at her all the ways that it was improper to lie with her knight. 

But this was not the castle. And she could hardly call herself the princess.

So she asked, “What… what do you want? I mean, what are you comfortable with?”

Something imperceptible in Link softened. “My bed is yours, should you chose to take it.” His voice surprised her. She blinked like a daft schoolgirl. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

Zelda nodded slowly, dumbly. “I… yes. Yes, I would like that.”

Link seemed satisfied, and pulled out the Sheikah Slate as he returned indoors. Zelda followed.

“So, remind me of our plans?” Zelda had no idea why he suddenly favored speech, but she wasn’t going to complain. She ran through the catalogue of ideas as Link jotted them down in the Sheikah Slate. She was mystified and a little jealous he found an adventure log feature on the Slate-- it could’ve been so helpful for research notes!

Link finished keying in a few additional ideas-- mainly an expanded stable-- and snapped the Slate back to his hip. “I’ll get this to Bolson. Can you grab some apples from the tree ‘round back?”

“Are we having apples for lunch again?” Zelda whined. 

“I’ll get some goat butter from the store, we’ll have hot buttered apples. They’re leagues better, I promise.”

“Fine…”


	2. Forked

The two spent the next few days in a rhythm of domestic bliss and abrupt hauntings of Ganon, particularly for Zelda. Spending one hundred years within the bowels of the Calamity left its inky scars. Zelda was just grateful that Link was there, ever patient, ever understanding. But something else was nagging at Zelda’s mind now.

_What now?_

The question kept her up one night, tucked sleeplessly into Link’s chest. He’d long since passed out. She envied his ability fall asleep as soon as he lay horizontally, but she did not envy his lightness of sleep, or seeming frequency of dreams. Even now, she felt his fingers twitch against her back. A soft sound would occasionally come from his throat, probably a noise of great exertion in his dream. Most notably, his eyebrows perpetually pinched together as he slept, just barely. 

_What now?_

How was Hyrule to rebuild? Where should she start? How should she start? What was needed to begin? What was needed to sustain? How would she convince the scattered Hylians that she was their Princess, their ruler? How could she not sound like a narcissistic, colonialist tyrant about it? What had changed in the past hundred years?

And, most importantly, did Zelda even want to rule?

It was horribly selfish, unbelievably cowardly, but she knew in her heart, she wanted to stay here, far away from the center of Hyrule. She could live in bliss and adventure when she chose. She could continue her science in peace.  
But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. She had a duty to fulfill.  
So…

_What now?_

The bed jolted a bit, and Link’s eyes fluttered open. He found Zelda’s quickly, and figured out that she couldn’t sleep.

“Bad dream?” she whispered.

Link pressed his face into her hair. 

“I can’t sleep,” she said, uselessly. “I keep wondering, what now?”

Link remained silent, but ran a hand through her hair. The repetitive motion soothed them both.

“How are we going to rebuild Hyrule? It’s all over but it feels like we’ve just begun. And I’m so… tired.”

Link hummed in agreement. 

“Where do I even begin? There’s… so much to do. I don’t even know how much we have to do. I have no idea how much has changed.”

“Do we even have to?” Link murmured.

Zelda pulled back. “What?”

“I don’t know what it was like. Before. But… Hyrule seems okay, to me. Maybe not as great. But it’s getting by. Re-asserting rule might hurt more than help. We could just let things… run their course. Hyrule can recover on its own.”

Zelda didn’t actually consider the possibility that Hyrule was fine. Diminished, but surviving. And indeed, with the Calamity gone, Hyrule would probably flourish on its own. 

“Then… would it not be selfish, to stay here? I, I really don’t want to rule. I never have. I’m far more useful in the laboratory.”

Link smiled drowsily. “I don’t think that’s selfish.”

“Then… then perhaps I’ll stay here.” Zelda smiled back.

“Don’t have to decide tonight. Don’t have to stay here either. We can help Hyrule just as Hylians. We can lead, but not rule. Does that make sense?”

“How would I lead instead of rule? They’re synonymous, with my title.”

“Don’t have to use the title. Nobody knows you’re you, Zelda. They won’t assume you’re the princess from a hundred years ago. You can just be a diplomat. An ambassador. A leader on your terms. You can define your role however you want.”

That was certainly a concept. One Zelda was quickly warming up to. “How are you so articulate after you just woke up?” she teased.

Link huffed a laugh. “When I’m up, I’m up.”

“And when you’re down, you’re really down.”

A beat of silence passed as Link closed his eyes again. Zelda assumed he was going back to sleep when he spoke again, “Let’s give it another week. Then we can head to Kakariko if you want.”

“Why Kakariko?”

“Impa’s the only one who’s seen Hyrule’s height to now. Between your knowledge, hers, and mine from exploring, we could come up with some kind of action plan.” 

“Yes… yes, I’ll consider that.” With that, Zelda snuggled into Link. “Goodnight, Link.” 

“G’night,” he mumbled, and was asleep in two minutes. 

 

The next day, Zelda woke to an empty bed. Belatedly, she realized she’d slept in til noon. 

“Oh my Goddess, I’ve wasted half the day,” she whisper-yelled at herself. She hurried to dress, taking three tries to shove her foot in her boot. She rushed outside, and realized she had no idea what to do with herself.

“You look… harried,” came Link’s voice. She turned to see Link on the little ridge around the house, soaking up the sun and wearing absolutely nothing but his underwear. Zelda resolutely ignored the heat in her cheeks.

“You could’ve woken me up,” she huffed. 

Link shrugged. He went back to what he was doing, which Zelda realized was laundry. She came up next to him to see he was scrubbing something purple against the washboard.

“Are those Sheikah tights?” she asked.

“Close. But no.”

She crouched down next to him. “Then what is it?”

“Part of the ancient set. I dyed it purple. Along with a hood.” He demonstrated by holding up a Hylian hood that was a gentle, dark lavender. “If we’re heading for Kakariko, I’d like to be ready.”

“What about your Champion’s Tunic?”

Link made a face. “Too bright. Too thin. Doesn’t go with anything. Feels wrong to dye it.”

“It doesn’t _go with anything?”_ Zelda sputtered. “Since when have you cared about fashion?”

“Since I got other things to wear.” 

_And also amnesia,_ Zelda thought. Even given the option, pre-Resurrection Link defaulted to the Tunic no matter what Zelda suggested. He only changed it when he threw on his ratty, ugly doublet. Needless to say Zelda appreciated post-Resurrection Link’s investment in the Snowquill set. 

A tinkling noise caught Zelda’s attention, and she glanced down to Link’s tub of water to see pink lights bouncing around.

“Oh! Link, why are there fairies in there?”

“They’re repairing the clothes,” Link answered. 

“Where did you find them?”

“Fairy Fountain at Kakariko. I dropped all the actual armor off with Cotera. It’ll take a few days for her to repair and clean each piece. Didn’t need her doing the clothes though, so. Here we are.”

Zelda almost asked how he got to Kakariko and back so quickly, and then bitterly remembered the Sheikah Slate only warped one person.

“I suppose that means we’ll just have to head to Kakariko in a few days,” Zelda proclaimed, standing up. 

“I can just warp there,” Link said. “Unless… you’ve already decided?”

Zelda nodded. Truly, she’d made up her made as soon as Link recommended the idea. She didn’t _really_ want to stay here. What she wanted was the freedom to do whatever she pleased, which mostly involved adventure and science, but also the recovery of Hyrule. Perhaps not a restoration, but… a birth of a new Hyrule. She didn’t know what a new Hyrule looked like, she only knew that she saw no part of herself on the throne. Still, she felt obligated to help where it was needed. That compulsion, she could proudly say, was born of no self-loathing or battered-in sense of responsibility, but simple compassion. That, she could sustain herself on. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m still sore. I’m gonna need more than a few days of rest to recover. Wait til I go stir-crazy,” Link said.

“And what if I go stir-crazy before you?”

“Go talk to the villagers. Start rebuilding Hyrule right here.” And with that, Link went back to scrubbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ancient set + hylian hood dyed purple is honestly #iconic


End file.
